


What Lamia Said

by the5leggedCricket



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Episode: s04e08 Lamia, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 06:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3599034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the5leggedCricket/pseuds/the5leggedCricket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if instead of being repulsed by Merlin’s magic, Lamia was hungry for it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [rowanbrandybuck](http://archiveofourown.org/users/rowanbrandybuck) for the beta.  
> All remaining mistakes are my own.

A branch slaps Gwen in the face. Faintly annoyed, she pushes it out of her way, urging her horse to keep walking. They’ve only left Longstead a few candle marks ago, but already Gwen longs for a break. The sun is burning her back, and her lips are parched.

She’s lost in thoughts of too long dresses and a cool summer breeze, when their party comes across a group of bandits. From where she’s trailing at the back, Gwen can’t see how many there are, but apparently the knights think they can swiftly overtake them with a surprise attack.

When the plumes from the bandits’ campfire clear away, Gwaine notices the rogues are pushing around a helpless girl. Disregarding their original plan to silently surround the camp, he runs down the hill, brandishing his sword, giving away their presence. The other knights share a look and throw themselves into the fight as well.

Gwen and Merlin stay at the edge of the camp, looking on as the knights easily overpower the bandits.

“I’m going to help them,” Merlin says suddenly. “You stay here.” And off he goes, hugging Gaius’ medicine bag close.

Gwen stays hidden behind a tree, watching in awe as Percival hefts one of the bandits on his shoulders as if he’s as light as a feather, and swings him towards one of the other bandits, muscles bulging. Another bandit tries running off in the direction of Gwen’s hiding place, straight towards Merlin. But before he can reach Merlin, the bandit slips, knocking himself out as he falls down on the ground. By now, the knights have overpowered the rest of them, and the last of the bandits run off with their tails between their legs.

Gwen comes out of her hiding place. She joins Gwaine and Elyan, who are congratulating each other, when Percival calls them over.

“Over here!”

They run towards the oak tree near where Percival’s sword is stuck in the ground. When they round it, they find Percival cradling a small, pale girl. She’s lying unconscious in his arms, her wrists tied together, but she seems unharmed at first sight. Merlin takes his water skin and hands it to Percival. With a nod, the knight takes it and puts it to her mouth, gently pouring some of the cool liquid between her lips.

The girl splutters, writhing in Percival’s arms. When her eyes blink open and fall on the strong knight holding her, her breathing speeds up and she tries to twist her body free from his hold. Percival loosens his grip a bit, but doesn’t let go, softly shushing her instead.

“It’s all right. You’re safe now. We’re knights of Camelot.”

The girl visibly relaxes. Gwen drops to her knees and slowly comes closer.

“My name’s Gwen. What’s yours?”

Without waiting for an answer, Gwen starts carefully untying the knots of the rope holding the trembling girl's wrists together, hoping the presence of another woman can soothe the girl.

“I’m Lamia.”

“What happened to you?”

“The bandits… They…” The girl’s visibly distressed, and she starts hyperventilating again.

Gwen takes the girl’s hands in her own, calmly brushing her thumb up and down. Leon also nears as non-threateningly as possibly, crouching down next to them.

“Are you strong enough to ride?”

Lamia looks up at him with big, uncertain eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, she nods.

“Good. Let’s get you to Camelot.”

Percival gives the water skin back to Merlin and stands up to carry the girl towards his horse. The rest of the group follows them, the knights on the lookout for returning bandits.

 

They proceed slowly but encounter no problems. Still, Leon doesn’t want to risk their luck, concerned about Lamia’s health, and soon he halts them to a stop to set up camp. As Gwen descends her horse, she’s surprised to see the knights and Merlin hurry towards Lamia. For a moment, she fears something’s wrong with the girl, but when Merlin, having arrived first, gives a small bow, and holds out his hand for Lamia to grasp, she realizes they all want to help her down.

To Gwen’s consternation, Percival scoffs and pushes Merlin harshly out of the way.

“Oi!”

“You’re just a servant, Merlin. Do you want to risk dropping her after all she’s been through? Leave it to me, I’m a knight.”

Merlin looks affronted, but he doesn’t reply. Instead, he stomps towards Gwen. Elyan sees this, and calls out.

“Merlin! Shouldn’t you be making a campfire?”

He looks up and spits out venomously, “Oh, but I’m just a servant, aren’t I? Wouldn’t want to risk me burning down the whole forest now, would you?”

Merlin’s obviously looking to pick a fight, and it seems Elyan would be more than happy to give him just that.

And sure enough, with a mean glint in his eyes, Elyan takes an intimidating step forward, scorning,

“Don’t overstep your boundaries, Merlin. You’re a servant, so don’t forget your place and use that tone with me or one of the other knights, for that matter. Because one of these days we won’t tolerate your insolence anymore.”

Merlin sneers and sits himself on a log, sulking with his arms crossed, silently taunting Elyan.

Gwen decides to interfere before things can escalate.

“What’s the matter with you both? You’ve been acting out of sorts all day!”

“Gwen, stay out of this.” Elyan looks angrily at her, but fortunately he stomps off, leaving them alone.

Gwen heaves a deep sigh, and resigns herself to gathering firewood. After all, Merlin’s not the only servant in this company.

By the time night falls, two more fights have broken out, and everyone – except for Gwen and Lamia – is grinding their teeth and scowling at each other. Gwen hopes that tomorrow will bring peace between them once again.

 

The morning is peaceful, indeed. Except for the bit where it’s too peaceful. Elyan, who was on watch last night, hasn’t woken any of the other knights up to take over. When the first rays of sunlight rise everyone from their slumber, there’s not a trace of him.

Feuds temporarily forgotten, Leon, Gwaine, Percival, and Merlin disappear into the woods, leaving Gwen alone with Lamia to guard the camp, just in case Elyan returns.

Gwen tries to talk to Lamia, asking her how she feels and if she wants to talk about what happened, but the girls is oddly cold, giving curt, one-worded answers. Feeling distinctly uncomfortable in her company, Gwen starts then preparing breakfast, heating up meat that the villagers of Longstead offered them for their ride back.

Her worries for her brother keep distracting her, so by the time the men return, she’s burned the now charcoal-black meat. When Gwen sees her brother hanging limply between the knights, she drops everything and runs towards them.

“What happened?”

“We don’t know. We found him like this.”

In the meantime, Merlin’s grabbed Gaius’s medicine bag. The knights lower Elyan softly to the ground, and Merlin kneels beside him, quickly examining him.

“We need to get him to Gaius.”

Gwen looks doubtfully at Lamia. She’s slowing them down, and at the pace they’ve been going at yesterday, it’ll take two more days to reach Camelot. Elyan doesn’t look like he’ll survive that long without urgent medical care.

She quickly makes up her mind. If that is what it takes to make sure her brother doesn’t die, she’s fully prepared to leave Lamia behind with one of the knights. She’s about to speak up, but Lamia beats her to the punch.

“I know a place, not far from here. You can take care of him there. It’s safe and closer than Camelot.”

“I don’t think I have the proper equipment—”

Leon gives Merlin a pointed look. “Nobody cares about your opinion, Merlin. If Lamia says you can take care of him there, you will. Now, shut your mouth, or I will shut it for you.”

Merlin looks torn, eyes flicking from Elyan to Leon to Lamia. “Okay,” he says finally. “Let’s go.”

 

It doesn’t escape Gwen’s notice that Lamia’s leading them away from Camelot. The longer she’s with them, the more Gwen distrusts her. Ever since they found her, the men have been behaving openly aggressive, and all signs of their tight friendship has disappeared. After catching Lamia’s satisfied smirk after Merlin’s concession, Gwen’s sure Lamia is responsible for the fights and the tension that’s laying over them like a heavy cloak.

There’s nothing she can do about it, though, and so she tries to keep quiet for now. In the meantime, all she can do is hope for an opportunity to get help for her brother, or send word back to Camelot—if anyone can help them out of their peril, it’s Arthur.

Realizing it’s left to her to help things along, she decides to rip bits of pieces from the hem of her dress, tying them around branches and twigs, hoping if—when—Arthur comes looking for them, it’ll catch his eye.

 

Soon enough, they stop for a rest.

Leon is carrying Elyan towards the support of a tree when it happens. Yet another fight breaks out – this time between Gwaine and Percival, who both want the ‘honour’ of lending their water skin to Lamia – but Gwen’s attention is caught by a sneaking Merlin. He’s the least sneaky person Gwen knows, so it’s a bit ridiculous, really, but the knights are oblivious to him, too caught up in the fight – by now Leon’s participating as well. She sees Merlin reaching Lamia and proudly handing his water skin over to her.

Gwen’s not sure what happens next, but suddenly, the clanging of swords – knights, drawing their swords at each other! – quietens. Her head swivels towards the knights, who’re blinking dumbstruck. They look at each other as if it’s the first time they’re seeing each other, a horrified expression settling on their faces.

“By the gods, did I just—”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

"I don’t know what came over me!”

They’re stumbling over their words in their rush to profoundly apologize to each other. They seem genuinely sorry and dumbfounded at their own actions. It confirms Gwen’s suspicions that they must’ve been under some kind of spell.

“What happened?”

Gwen steps towards them. “It was Lamia. She must’ve had some kind of hold on your mind. You weren’t yourselves.”

“Lamia?”

As one, they direct their focus to the girl. Only to see that Merlin’s still gawking adoringly at her, blind to the rest of the world. He’s in some weird staring contest with Lamia, except that it’s not a contest, but more as if they simply can’t look away from each other.

“Merlin?” They cautiously advance towards the two.

“Yes?” he snaps, breaking his gaze with Lamia to stare them down.

“How are you feeling?” Gwen asks tentatively.

Now Merlin just seems confused. “Fine. Why are you asking?”

Lamia’s still keeping her eyes trained on his face, enraptured. Gwen’s stomach knots tight in fear. Nothing good can come out of this fascination. What could Lamia possibly want from Merlin? And, more importantly, how are they going to stop her from getting it?

“Merlin,”—now Leon comes closer—“we were thinking that maybe you were right. It’d probably be better if we took Elyan to Gaius.”

“What? Now my opinion suddenly matters?”

Leon’s cheeks redden in shame.

“Or don’t you trust my abilities as a physician?”

Lamia whispers something to him, and Merlin nods, before continuing.

“Lamia’s right. If there’s a safe place in the neighbourhood, we should take him there. I can take care of Elyan just fine myself. And,” he adds, when Percival opens his mouth to interrupt, “as acting physician, what I say, goes. I’m done with you pushing me around. Elyan’s my patient.”

Merlin stands up, offering Lamia his hands to help her up. “I don’t care if you go back to Camelot, or get lost in these woods. Elyan and Lamia are my responsibility,” he says, tightening his arm around Lamia’s waist, “and I’m taking them, so I can properly examine them both.”

He loosens his grip on Lamia, so he can pick up Elyan—to everyone’s surprise he can carry him, albeit with a lot of effort—and lay him on his horse, joining him after instructing Lamia to take Elyan’s horse.

They don’t wait for a response before taking off, quickly disappearing from sight. Gwen’s still standing there, too stumped to react, when Gwaine passes her on his horse.

Leon and Percival pack up camp in a few, efficient motions.

“Get on your horse. We’re going after them!”

It doesn’t take long to catch up with Merlin, Elyan, Lamia, and Gwaine. They’re going pretty slow, Merlin trying not to jar Elyan too much, but the knights and Gwen keep their distance, not wanting to anger Merlin further. After all, he’s the only one who can keep Elyan alive at the moment.

 

If only about the one thing, Lamia was right, and they do indeed find an abandoned castle not long after.

Gwen isn’t eager to let Lamia lead them into a trap—because she’s pretty sure that’s exactly what’s happening—and neither are the knights, but as long as Merlin doesn’t let go of Elyan, whom he has a very tight grip on, they can’t just knock him out and be done with it. So reluctantly, the group follows him and Lamia into the tunnel which will grant them entrance into the castle.

They’ve not gone far when suddenly all the torches are blown out by a suspiciously strong gust of wind. They’re all left blinking in the dark, but before their eyes can adjust, they hear Merlin shuffle, and his torch is alight again.

“Keep an eye on him, will you? I need to go after Lamia.”

In the fading light, Gwen sees Elyan lying on the ground, eyes still firmly closed. Merlin had to choose between going after Lamia and carrying Elyan, and he chose Lamia. Gwen tries not to be hurt by his decision, reminding herself that he’s still under Lamia’s enchantment. It’s the enchantment that’s responsible for his actions, not Merlin.

Left in the darkness, there’s some cursing and swearing.

“Give me a second, and I’ll have a fire blazing in no time.”

It’s a very long second that feels more like five minutes, but eventually, Gwaine is lighting the torches. Percival picks up Elyan, and hands his knife to Gwen.

“I’ll take him outside. Please, get Merlin out of there.”

The rest of them take off after Merlin, hurrying through the dark tunnel. It leads to an empty hallway, and there is no sign of either Merlin or Lamia.

“We should split up.”

Gwaine and Gwen nod, taking a turn left and right respectively, while Leon keeps on going straight-forward.

Gwen arrives in a big room, full of fallen-over statues and pillars. The silence is eerie, giving her goosebumps. There’s obviously no one here, and she hurries towards the doorway at the other side of the room. This one has even more wreckage in it, cobwebs and dust covering all visible space.

 

A smooching noise attracts Gwen’s attention. It’s coming from her left. Tense, she turns around, following the sound. It leads her around a corner, where she comes to an abrupt stop.

Merlin and Lamia are kissing passionately, in an intimate embrace on the ground. No…wait. Lamia is kissing passionately, but Merlin’s just lying there, helpless, getting slobbered on.

Gwen grips the knife in both hands, and covers the space left between her and Lamia. She holds it against her back.

“Let. Him. Go.”

Lamia turns around slowly, a wicked, green glint in her eyes. Before Gwen knows what’s happening, the girl is screeching and her limbs start growing, growing, until they’re not proper legs and arms anymore, but tentacles.

Gwen stumbles backwards. There’s a tentacled monster standing between her and an unconscious Merlin. She could flee, sure, but that would mean leaving Merlin behind, and that is not happening if Gwen has any say in it.

Her hands tremble, but she holds her white-knuckled grip on the sword. She tries to attack Lamia, but before she can get close enough, one of the slimy tentacles strikes her in the chest, and she goes flying backwards.

“Leon! Gwaine!”

Lamia turns her back on her, slithering back to Merlin, eyes fixed on him. Gwen makes use of her lowered guard to struggle back up. However, without even looking at her, Lamia reaches one of her tentacles out towards Gwen, and slides it around her legs, effortlessly pulling Gwen up in the air.

Dangling helplessly in the air, Gwen can only watch as that monster puts its lips back on Merlin’s and start sucking, as if he’s a barrel containing the best wine she’s ever had and his mouth is the uncorked opening.

“Stop it! Please, stop!” She wants to strike the tentacle holding her with the sword, but the tentacle’s just out of reach, leaving Gwen unable to do anything other than beg as she watches Merlin's life-force get sucked out of him.

Suddenly Leon and Gwaine come barging in the room, side by side. They slice the tentacle that’s holding Gwen, and she falls down on the ground. Losing a limb is apparently important enough to get Lamia’s attention, and she turns towards them, hissing viciously.

The knights start fighting Lamia off while Gwen scoots back out of harm’s way.

 

Even though there’s two of them, the knights have trouble getting the upper hand. There seems to be tentacles everywhere, and Lamia’s body as a monster is so big it’s blocking any way towards Merlin.

Gwen’s heart is beating loudly, and she can’t help panicking a little at the thought of her friends' safety.

Then a loud shriek sounds, and the monster’s body thumps down, revealing the sight of a bedraggled Arthur and Percival. Arthur pulls his sword out of Lamia’s back, before striking her with it a few more times for good measure.

“Arthur!”

But Arthur’s only eyes for Merlin. “Merlin? Wake up, please. Merlin. Merlin!”

He’s shaking Merlin, who looks so fragile, lying motionless in the dirt on the ground.

“We need to get him to Gaius.” Percival’s voice is rough with emotion.

“But Camelot’s too far away.”

“No, he’s right outside.”

Surprised, Gwen wants to ask more questions, but there’s no time for that. First, they need to save Merlin. If Merlin can still be saved.

“He’s—he’s not breathing,” Arthur chokes out. He’s clamping Merlin’s limp body, and starts shaking him again, with more urgency and, dare she say it, desperation.

“Merlin, please, don’t do this to me. You can’t die on me! Merlin, Merlin…”

They all turn away their gaze as he dissolves into sobs, clinging to the lifeless body of his best friend.

Gwen bites on her lower lip, trying not to let her grief show. But just as everyone else in the room, her eyes shimmer as a few tears appear. She can’t believe they were too late. The unfairness of it all hits her hard. The one time Merlin, who was always so selfless when it came to his friends, needed their help, they let him down.

He didn’t deserve this! Why, why did that monster go after Merlin? It’s cruel of her, but for a moment, Gwen wishes it would’ve gone after one of the knights. After anyone but brave, generous, good Merlin.

Eventually, Leon lays his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. He clears his throat. “We should take him back to Gaius.”

Arthur doesn’t reply, instead shoving his hands under Merlin, lifting him up.

They’re all silent as they follow Arthur, who leads them back out in the open where Gaius is sat beside Elyan, along with three knights and Agravaine. When the physician hears their footsteps, he looks up, a frown appearing on his face when he takes in Merlin.

“Sire?”

“Merlin, he’s—”

“No, that’s not possible. No…”

Gaius holds out his hand as if wanting to touch him, but changes his mind at the last moment.

“Could you… Could you lay him there?” He points at the blanket Elyan was sitting on not moments ago. “Please?”

Arthur does as he’s told, looking too numb to even think about his actions.

Gwen sees Gaius waver at the sight of his deadly pale ward. He visibly braces himself before leaning over, searching for a pulse that isn’t there.

Having to look on as Gaius’s hope is about to be dashed, breaks Gwen’s heart a second time. She clasps a hand over her mouth to silence her hitching breath. Arthur turns his back towards Gaius and Merlin, probably unable to go through the torment of seeing Gaius’s loss.

Gaius stays unmoving for a long minute. Then, his face falls. A loud sob escapes Gwen’s mouth. It is as she thought then. All hope is lost.


	2. Chapter 2

“Something’s wrong.”

Gaius looks at where Arthur is standing regally in front of the room, addressing the counselors and knights he gathered here. A small smile plays on his lips at the sight of the man Arthur has grown into. He might not have brought Albion together yet, but he’s certainly well on his way. The changes he’s undergone ever since Merlin arrived in Camelot have brought out the best in him, and Gaius can’t wait to see the bright future he’ll lead all of them into.

“The party I sent to Longstead… They’ve been gone for too long.”

Immediately, Gaius’ smile fades. The last few days filled with tending to the citizens who’d fallen to the sweating sickness had kept him too busy to worry much, but now Arthur’s concerns suddenly become his own. While Merlin’s magical healing abilities are definitely not up to par, Merlin himself is a more than decent physician. If it were any ordinary illness, he would’ve healed them instantly, and if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t hesitate to return to Camelot to confer with Gaius. Whatever the situation in Longstead is, the party should be back by now

“I’m going to lead a group of knights to Longstead, find out what happened. Gaius?” He looks up questioningly. “Are you still needed in Camelot?”

“The sweating sickness has passed, Sire, and everyone who was infected is well on their way to healing.”

Arthur nods. “Good. I want you to accompany us. Your skills may be required.”

Gaius sighs in relief. He wants to see for himself if everyone is okay. If he were to stay behind, he’d only worry anyway. And if anything _has_ happened to Merlin or one of the others, his skill set can only be an advantage.

“Someone tell the stable boy to ready the horses. We will leave immediately.”

 

It’s still early, but to Gaius it seems they’ve been travelling for ages. He glances briefly at Agravaine, who’s incessantly whispering to Arthur. If he isn’t trying to persuade Arthur to turn back to Camelot, he’s making outrageous propositions for new laws or trying to make his nephew doubt previous decisions – such as the lowered taxes for poorer citizens. Gaius is in no place to interrupt Agravaine, and there’s only so many things he can try to distract Arthur with. Something tells him Arthur won’t appreciate yet another update on herbs Gaius needs to restock.

He’s almost glad when they come across a camp full of dead slave traders. Even Agravaine is silent as they make their way through the camp. However, Gaius’ relief quickly changes into a sense of dread when he inspects the corpses. There is not a scratch on them. Bodily, they are all in perfect shape. For all intents and purposes, they should be in good health and, well, alive. But their bodies are cold and stay still as Arthur curiously pokes at them. His unease grows even stronger at what he sees next: a transporting cage in shatters, as if a wild animal tore it to shreds.

When it becomes clear there’s nothing they can do or find at the camp, they leave it behind. This time, Arthur leads the party grim-faced and at a quick pace. The time for a relaxed journey to Longstead is over. Gwen, Merlin, and the rest of the knights need to be found as soon as possible. Preferably in Longstead.

 

All hopes of that, however, are shattered when Arthur comes to a sudden halt. He backtracks a bit, and, face devoid of blood, he lifts a piece of cloth from a twig.

“Sire?” Impatience is clear in Agravaine’s voice.

“It’s Guinevere’s.”

Gaius rides closer to see for himself. Arthur wordlessly hands it over. While Gaius studies the bit of material, Agravaine asks,

“How can you be sure?”

“It’s from her favourite skirt.”

Gaius doesn’t recognize it, but he trusts Arthur to know what he’s talking about. After all, Merlin has prattled on quite a lot during dinner about Arthur’s crush on the girl.

“Something is definitely wrong.”

A cold feeling of alarm settles in Gaius’ heart. If something had led the knights off their path, Merlin is inventive enough to have thought of a way to have kept them on track. That he hasn’t done anything to intervene, is a dreadful sign of trouble indeed.

Meanwhile, Arthur is looking for a trail. He excels at tracking and hunting, so it doesn’t take long for him to determine there are ‘six sets of hoofprints, headed east’.

Gaius feels a tiny sliver of relief. The marks are not even a day old. If they make haste, perhaps they can recover the gap before the night falls. They spur on their horses, and Gaius doubts they would have stopped at all if not for the necessity of the occasional break for the poor animals. Almost. Frustration wins out in the end, because every minute they’re slowing down from their strenuous pace is also another minute that Merlin could be in danger.

It’s already dark when Arthur spots the ruins of a castle. It lies dark and looming in the distance, and they all just _know_ this is where the knights, Gwen, and Merlin must be.

Arthur squeezes his horse with his knees and it canters down the hill. The rest of the party follows suit. Gaius hears Agravaine grumbling unhappily when he passes by, but he ignores it, too focused on finding his ward.

 

The sight of Percival crouched down next to an unconscious Elyan greets them at the foot of the hill. It brings them to an abrupt stop, and Percival looks up at the noise.

“Arthur!” he exclaims, obviously relieved.

Arthur jumps down, and walks towards the pair. “Percival.” He claps him on the shoulder and a short laugh burst from between his lips. Then, he kneels next to Elyan.

“What happened? Where are the others?”

Percival thins his lips, and says gravely, “The others are inside. We came across a girl in distress – her hands were bound and she looked weak. We offered help, but… I fear she enchanted us.”

Gaius, now also descended, gasps. If Merlin was enchanted… The consequences could be enormous. What if he had revealed he has magic?

He thinks he sees Agravaine smirking, but it happens too quickly to be sure.

Percival hastens to add, “The enchantment didn’t hold, except for Merlin. He followed the girl inside the castle, and the others are trying to get him back.”

Gaius draws in a sharp breath. This is not good. Not good at all. Does this girl know he has magic? But no, he can’t focus on Merlin now. He needs to concentrate on caring for Elyan first, while the others rescue Merlin.

“I’m going in with Percival. The rest of you stay here.”

Gaius doesn’t even watch as they disappear into the dark tunnel; he’s already rolling out a bed roll for Elyan to lie on. At his request, two of the knights carry Elyan towards it, carefully settling him down, and the third one goes to gather some firewood. All the while, Agravaine looks passively on, Gaius ignoring the man’s presence as well as he can.

His knees grind as he lowers himself next to the unconscious knight. Gaius lifts his eyelids, but the pupils remain unresponsive. Elyan’s brow is cold to his touch, and his heart rate is unusually slow.

“We need to keep him warm.” Immediately, one of the knights fetches him some blankets to cover him with, shielding him from a breeze that isn’t there. In the mean time, the other knight has returned, and he starts a fire as close to Elyan as he dares. Gaius shifts around until he deems his robes safe from any fire hazard.

“Is there anything you can do for him?” a knight asks, worry clear in his voice.

Gaius is at a loss as to what’s wrong with Elyan. The girl must have bespelled him, as there are no outward injuries, but as long as he doesn’t know precisely which enchantment she cast, there’s little he can do. Besides, most magical maladies require some sort of counterspell... Best not to think of that yet.

“I need hawthorn to stimulate his blood circulation. There is some in my medicine bag. White flower, thorny branches.” The knight locates them easily, and, at Gaius’ prompting, mixes them into a medicinal tea.

Gaius wordlessly accepts the makeshift cup and pinches Elyan’s nose closed. He pours the tea into Elyan’s mouth, and, once he’s satisfied there’s enough liquid in his mouth, massages the young man’s throat, forcing the liquid down.

The knight who helped him is hovering nearby, trying not to look as if he’s hovering. “That’s all I can do for him. As soon as the King comes back, we might know what we’re dealing with.”

He nods, and goes to the edge of the their impromptu camp. Gaius gets up—his bones are getting too old for this—and settles on a log a little farther from the fire. Unfortunately, Agravaine decides to do the same, and they sit in tense silence, Agravaine surreptitiously looking at Gaius, Gaius keeping an eye on Elyan, and the knights staring into the woods, on the lookout for trouble.

Not five minutes later, a low groan can be heard from the pile of blankets mounted on Elyan. The blankets move a bit, and the sounds stops.

“Elyan?” Gaius gets up, and crouches down next to him, groaning a bit as well – his knees are outright protesting now. Elyan whimpers softly before blinking. “Elyan.” Gaius exhales relieved.

The one knight glances over his shoulder. When he sees that Elyan has regained consciousness, he nods at Gaius, and goes back to gazing at trees.

“Here, drink this.” Gaius hands Elyan his water bag. “Take it easy.”

Elyan sips from the bag. Once he has a few drops in, he lowers it, and asks, “Where am I? What happened?”

Gaius’ shoulders drop minutely in disappointment. “Actually, I was hoping you could tell us.” Then he could’ve solved the mystery of what creature Arthur is facing and what it wants with Merlin. The longer they’re gone, the more anxious he’s getting to see his ward return to safety. Who- or whatever their opponent is, if it’s too strong enough to enchant Merlin, he wants nothing more than to see it gone.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

Elyan breathes shakily, and gulps down some more water. That’s all the time he needs to sort his thoughts, it seems. “We were coming back from Longstead, when we found a girl. I– I remember thinking she was the most important person in my life, even though I’d never seen her before. She was...so helpless. So we were going to bring her to Camelot. To see you. But… I don’t know, we started fighting, me and the knights and Merlin.” Elyan lowers his eyes in shame. “It wasn’t pretty. What have I done? What have I _said_?”

Gripping his shoulder, Gaius lowers Elyan, who had started to scramble away from his bed roll. “You were enchanted, you weren’t yourself. Just tell me what happened. Please.”

He stops struggling – he really is too weak if he can’t even fight Gaius – and calms his breathing.

“I was just so _angry_. Like she was all that mattered, and everyone who got in the way… I was the first to keep watch that night. I mean, it took a while, but just as everyone seemed to have fallen asleep, she suddenly joined me, and she kissed me, and… I don’t know, that’s it. I remember feelings her lips on mine, and then it’s one big nothing. Blank.”

A cold feeling of dread creeps into his heart. He shivers involuntarily. If it’s true… But, no, there must be other creatures out there whose kiss makes them fall into unconscious. Who seduce their victims first, and who cause all men to quarrel.

“What did she name herself?”

“Lamia,” Elyan answers. “She said her name was Lamia.”

The cold feeling breaks through the walls and his heart seems to stop for a moment. A _lamia_ has gotten its hands on Merlin. The boy didn’t stand a chance.

 

Created by the High Priestesses of the Old Religion long ago, lamias were vicious creatures. Constantly on the hunt for the blood of men, craving the power of their soul, they were not only cruel predators but also unstoppable savages. A single touch of their lips could render the toughest of men to his death. However, Fate had been merciful by making lamias unbearable envious of each other. One by one, they’d slaughtered each other over prey and territorial defence.

That after all this time there’s still a lamia on the loose, is hard to believe. Gaius had assumed they were all extinct. There’s only one way this one could’ve survived the harsh fights and the strain of time for so long... Magic.

Because for all that power lamias can absorb with a single kiss, they long for nothing as much as for magic, the most pure and absolute source of power. Once they find a sorcerer, they will stop at nothing to drain him dry of his last drop of magic—it strengthens their life force and is the only thing capable of keeping one alive for all these centuries.

And the sorcerers are completely and utterly helpless. Just a touch will render them trapped in the lamia’s bewitched snares, and a kiss.... It is horrible. It isn’t just a quick death and be done with it. No, the lamias will literally suck their soul out, and the sorcerer will wither away slowly, and be aware of it during the whole of the extremely painful process.

His heart aches for Merlin. If he’s fallen under her spell – and if he is to believe Percival, Merlin has – it may already be too late. Gaius can only hope that he stayed out of her claws—tentacles—long enough for the other to rescue him.

 

There’s the sound of footsteps, and Gaius looks up. Arthur is leading the group walking out of the castle. He thinks his face looks a bit wet, but before he can pursue that trail of thought, his eyes are sucked to the limp body in his arms.

Merlin’s head is cradled in the crook of Arthur’s arm. It lols with every step he takes, his arms and legs lifelessly swaying along in the air. Deflated, much like a deer right after it’s slaughtered, depleted of its blood, loose body going wherever it’s dragged.

“Sire?” He won’t give up hope just yet. If only Arthur says they swooped in right on time, that he was knocked unconscious during the fight…

“Merlin, he’s—” His voice breaks, and more tears escape his eyes. Gaius, too, feels like crying. It can’t be. Merlin can’t be dead; he battled Nimueh, and walked away with barely a scratch! He has mastered the power of life and death! But that had been the problem, hadn’t it? His power. That had made him the perfect target. And this time, his opponent hadn’t wasted its opportunity, and had shot the arrow right into the bull’s eye.

“No, that’s not possible,” he hears himself say. “No…” As long as he denies it, there’s a chance, however small, that maybe it won’t be true. That, somehow, Merlin had defied the odds once again, and found a way to make it out of a seemingly hopeless situation, alive and well. That’s what he always does, right? Give Gaius a bad scare, but pull through time and again?

Unthinkingly, he reaches towards Merlin, to get his attention, needing his reassurance that he will, indeed, get through this, and that Gaius is merely a worry-head. But before his fingers can touch him, a fear enters Gaius’ mind. A fear that the skin will be cold to the touch, that he’ll get the confirmation he doesn’t want. Not now, not ever.

“Could you… Could you lay him there?” He points towards the bed roll, and only then realizes Elyan has moved out of the way. His world seems to have narrowed down to Merlin, leaving him unable to register anything that doesn’t directly have to do with him and his way to recovery – for he _will_ recover. Gaius won’t rest before he’s made sure of that. “Please?” he tacks on when Arthur doesn’t react immediately. Possibly he’s in shock. Gaius will have to check on him. As soon as Merlin has started healing.

Still, he’s hesitant to examine his ward. What if the impossible has happened? He couldn’t handle that. There’d be no straws to grasp unto, no reasonings in the world to explain away the absence of both breath and pulse.

Swallowing a lump away, he gathers his courage, and lays a trembling finger on Merlin’s pulse point.

It could be that his pulse has weakened so much it’s extremely slow, and hard to find. He puts a bit more pressure on it.

He waits.

Any time now…

No. He refuses to believe it. He refuses!

Still nothing.

 

He bows his head in defeat. The ice has now completely surrounded his heart, and it’s starting to pierce holes in it, wounds that will never heal. How empty will his life be? The son he’d always longed for… Son. Hunith. Oh gods, how will he tell Hunith? He’d promised to keep Merlin safe, and how had he failed her. It will ruin her, shatter her like his heart is being shattered into glazed shards now.

He pulls away to embrace his ward one last time, to give him the strength to carry on, or at least to hold on until he’s home again and to write a letter to Hunith – gods, how will he ever do it? – when he feels something.

Was that...a pulse? No, he can’t give himself hope; it must be his own pulse. But no, there it is again, feeble and hesitant, but definitely there.

“He’s alive.”

The response is immediate. Arthur and Gwen rush to his side, dropping unceremoniously to their knees.

He looks around and spots the knight who was so eager to help earlier sitting at Elyan’s side. “You, I need some more hawthorn and yarrow—yellow flower, feathery leaves.”

The knight scurries off, and Gaius turns towards the others. “Gwaine, hand me those blankets to support his head. Leon, that fire needs higher. Gwen, could you find me some echinacea, white peony root, verbena and wintergreen? There should be plenty of herbs around here. Ground them into a tincture.”

Having some experience helping Gaius in times of war, Gwen knows the herbs he’s talking about, and locates them easily. By the time she’s done making the tincture, the others have finished their tasks, too. First, Gaius burns the plants the knight fetched, waving them under Merlin’s nose, until he draws a shaky breath. Then, he supports his ward’s head, and puts the small bowl with the tincture at Merlin’s lips. Merlin’s still unconscious, but with Gaius massaging his throat muscles, the fluid finds its way in.

Everyone watches over his shoulder in anticipation, holding their breath, but Gaius says, “It might be some time until he awakens. I suggest we make camp here, because he won’t be able to travel in his condition.”

They deflate a little, but do as he says, shooting nervous glances towards their friend every two minutes.

Gaius tries to find a comfortable spot next to Merlin, where he can keep an eye on him. Once he’s satisfied Merlin won’t be able to so much as twitch without him noticing it, he looks up. Gwen, Percival, Leon, Elyan, Gwaine, and Arthur are all looking at him or Merlin, the others keeping watch or, in Agravaine’s case, lurking in the shadows that only partially conceal his disappointed grumble.

When his shock seems to have abated, Arthur lifts his chin, and asks in a slightly shaky voice, “What was that?”

And Gaius proceeds to tell them all he knows about lamias. Well, almost everything. At least the part about how they were created by the Priestesses of the Old Religion, half girl half serpent, as an untamable weapon. And how they seduced men, solely for the purpose of stealing their life force. No need to know the whole gruesome part about how they like to have their ways with sorcerers, right?

And if Arthur’s too distracted by keeping his eyes trained on Merlin to notice he’s leaving out certain information, or to ask more about the bits he’s being vague on – such as why the lamia went after Merlin and lost all interest in the knights – well, Gaius has never been one to complain much.

Somehow, it almost escapes his notice when Merlin shifts minutely. Thanks to Arthur, who’s on him in an instant, it doesn’t, and he squeezes Merlin’s hand. “Merlin? Do you hear me?”

Merlin whimpers pathetically. “Merlin, it’s Gaius. Can you open your eyes for me?”

  
Everyone holds their breath as Merlin’s eyelashes flutter slightly. He emits another groan, and then finally, _finally_ Merlin’s eyes open, irises burning a bright, brilliant gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all feedback welcome.


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